


feeling small

by demistories



Category: Dear Evan Hansen - Pasek & Paul/Levenson
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Anxiety, Bonding, Developing Relationship, M/M, Musical Instruments, Pre-Relationship, and it stays that way so dont fight me, mostly just self indulgent headcanons tbh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-05
Updated: 2018-02-05
Packaged: 2019-03-13 20:19:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,250
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13578213
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/demistories/pseuds/demistories
Summary: Connor’s music literally cannot be blasted any louder. Larry has always said that Connor will go deaf before graduation, which Connor has always answered “fuck you” to before turning the volume up higher. But right now? He genuinely might be at risk for hearing loss.Zoe fucks up the run again and screams a fun new string of expletives.Zoe has an audition and Connor goes over to Evan's to escape the never ending saxophone music.





	feeling small

**Author's Note:**

> whats up yo i wrote this for askmurphysiblings literally in september. to be specific, september 21st from 12:30 am to 2 am. one sitting. good going. but i finally posted art that makes it make sense? sort of?? at least some of the....whatever im posting it NOW and i did VERY little editing
> 
> if you read my other stuff and are like "wow these are different characterizations" or "your writing style has changed" thats because this is literally months old and both have! cool? cool. 
> 
> i actually dont love this one that much but i like have to post this mentally for myself so i hope you enjoy it! sorry for the chopiness i was i was still figuring out what i was doing with these kids
> 
> the title is from "kids again" by artist vs poet which is actually one of my favorite songs to listen to when i think about connor and zoe so. check that out for sure
> 
>  **warning:** anxiety/anxiety attack, some discussion of mental health
> 
> enjoy!

Connor’s music literally cannot be blasted any louder. Larry has always said that Connor will go deaf before graduation, which Connor has always answered “fuck you” to before turning the volume up higher. But right now? He genuinely might be at risk for hearing loss. 

Zoe fucks up the run again and screams a fun new string of expletives. 

Connor types it out on his phone, muttering it to himself to make sure he gets it — and the intonation — right, and sends it to the group chat. Then he reaches back behind his head and hits the wall a few times with his fist. 

“Keep it the fuck down!” he shouts. He’s just trying to get his homework done like any good mentally ill suicidal stoner who almost failed out of high school a few times. 

“ _ Fuck you! _ ” Zoe shouts back before honking on her saxophone, probably as loud as she can just to be difficult.

“Asshole,” Connor mutters to himself. 

He’s been trying to go easy on Zoe and her constant playing. She has a big audition next week, in four days if he wanted to be specific, and has been panicking. But she’s been practicing the same page of the same piece for almost four hours now and Connor is going to scream. 

Jared is having the time of his life reading about all of Zoe’s aggressive swearing, but for Connor, it’s starting to get old. Connor is working on being a better brother, but there is only so much saxophone he can take. 

**From: (Pro) Con  
** **To: Ev  
**      can i come over 

**From: Ev** **  
****To: (Pro) Con** **  
**      Yeah!! Anythin g wrong? 

**From: (Pro) Con** **  
****To: Ev** **  
**      nothing   
     just wanna give z her space   
     shes been practicing all day and im gonna fucking lose it 

**From: Ev** **  
****To: (Pro) Con** **  
**      Oh!! Shes rea lly good isnt she?? But ehyeah my mom isnt home so sure    
     Will your parents be ok wiht it??   
  
**From: (Pro) Con** **  
****To: Ev** **  
**      who fucking cares   
     be there in 20 

**From: Ev** **  
****To: (Pro) Con** **  
**      Ok!!   
     Let mek now when you get here so I cna let you in 

Connor groans and rolls out of bed— he hadn’t really anticipated the moving part of his plan. He stumbles as he gets to his feet, stretching out his arms before grabbing a random hoodie off the pile of clothes on his desk chair. He was supposed to put them away, but the fact that he did laundry was an accomplishment in it of itself. 

He hesitates before shoving a few textbooks in his bag. Evan is pretty good at getting him to at least  _ start _ his homework, which is better than nothing. He snatches a random novel off his shelf and stuffs his phone and headphones in his pocket before pulling on his old boots and leaving the room. 

Larry will probably be pissed about him skipping out, but Connor is past caring. 

He pauses outside Zoe’s door, listening to her play a song that he could probably sing at this point. He waits for her to come up to a few measures of rest that he knows she always skips because there’s no point in practicing silence before knocking. 

“ _ What _ ?” Zoe snaps. 

Connor rolls his eyes. “It’s me.”   
He hears her huff. “Fine. Come in.” 

He opens the door just enough so he poke his head in. “Wow so you haven’t turned into a saxophone.” 

Zoe scowls and crosses her arms over her chest. “Did you need something?” 

Connor gives her a quick once over. The bags under her eyes are darker than usual and her hair is twisted up into an incredibly messy bun held together with a crayola twistable. It’s blue and it’s going to be hell to get out of the knots later. She’s still wearing her pajamas and has notes scribbled all over her bare arms. Measure numbers and rhythms that Connor can hear in his head. Paper notes are strewn across her bed and desk, but it looks like she kept running out of space and eventually turned to her own skin as a canvas. 

“Just wanted to let you know I’m going out. So if Larry asks…” Connor shrugs. He doesn’t actually care what Larry does. But his mom might panic and Connor doesn’t need her calling the cops. Again. 

“Okay,” Zoe says, already looking back at her music. She furrows her eyebrows and glances over to Connor. “Evan’s?”   
Connor looks away and shrugs a shoulder. “Yeah. Why?” 

The corner of Zoe’s lips lift in a smirk. “No reason. But whatever. Go be gay and emo.” 

Connor flips her off. He glances back over his shoulder just before he closes the door. “Hey, Zo?” he asks. 

Zoe looks up at him, lowering her saxophone. “What?” 

“Take a break, okay? Don’t kill yourself over this.” 

She opens her mouth in protest, probably to say something about the phrasing, but stops herself. She nods and stares at her music stand for a second before raising her saxophone to her mouth. 

Connor closes the door softly behind him as she starts to play again. 

* * *

**From: (Pro) Con** **  
****To: Ev** **  
**      im here

* * *

 

“H-hey!” Evan smiles as he lets Connor in. “You okay?” 

Connor toes off his shoes and dumps his bag on the kitchen table. “Been worse,” he says. It’s a lazy answer, because ‘worse’ for him is pretty fucking bad. 

Evan knows this. “We have some takeout for dinner, o-or we could order something? I think my mom left money?” 

Connor follows Evan into the living room and collapses on the couch. “You’re the best, Hansen,” he mumbles into the cushion.

“Th-that’s not true,” Evan stutters.

Connor lifts his head to see Evan flushing and tugging at his shirt. “Yeah it is,” he says honestly.

Evan chews on his bottom lip and looks away. “Uh…did Zoe— how’s Zoe doing?” 

Connor moves so he’s sitting upright. Evan sits down on the couch next to him. “She’s stressed,” Connor says. He runs a hand through his hair. “It’s starting to stress me out. There was too much fucking anxiety in that house.” 

Evan stares at Connor. 

Connor snorts. “Okay, but I’m  _ used _ to your anxiety, Ev. Your anxiety is different from Zoe’s performance anxiety. If I have to hear Tableaux de Provence one more time I’m going to start throwing things.” 

“Zoe and I have different types of anxiety,” Evan repeats. 

“You have different vibes,” Connor says, bumping their shoulders together. “I don’t fucking know, your anxieties manifest differently. One I know how to deal with and help with. The other I don’t. So instead of yelling at her I figured I should give her some space.” 

Evan smiles weakly. “And your first choice was to come here and have two day old Chinese food?” 

“Yes.” 

They stare at each other until Evan ducks his head, ears turning red. “O-oh, okay,” Evan mumbles. 

“You’re my best friend,” Connor says. “Why wouldn’t I want to hang out with you?” He tilts his head to make eye contact with Evan, smiling a little when their eyes lock. 

Evan shrugs and gestures with a hand wildly. “I don’t know I just— It’s just…? I’m? It’s been a long day and I just… I don’t  _ feel _ like you should feel like that because I’m just a mess and— There are way better things you could be doing right now instead of sitting here talking to me when I’m just freaking out and—” 

“Hey.” Connor catches one of Evan’s hands in the air. “It’s okay. I like you because I do, no matter how bad your day was.” 

Evan closes his eyes and inhales deeply. Connor counts silently in his head, in for five, hold for five, out for five on a hiss. It reminds him of the breathing exercises Zoe sometimes does before playing. 

Evan does two more breaths before he opens his eyes and sags forward, resting his forehead against Connor’s shoulder. “I’m sorry,” he murmurs. 

“It’s fine,” Connor insists. He cards a hand through Evan’s hair and rubs circles on his back. 

Evan laughs bitterly, shaking against Connor. “You left your house t-to get away from this.” 

Connor shakes his head. “Like I said, you and Zoe have different anxieties. I know how, if, and when I can help you. I don’t get Zoe like that.”   
Evan pulls away, eyes wide. “I’m sorry.” 

Connor blinks. “What.”   
“I’m sorry you and Zoe aren’t that close. I know you’re both working on it, but…” 

Connor looks down at his hands. “It’s fine. We can talk to each other sort of which… Fuck, I don’t even deserve that.” He tugs his hand through his hair. It gets caught in a tangle that he yanks his fingers through. 

“You do,” Evan insists. 

Connor scoffs. “Yeah, sure.” 

“You’re working to be better,” Evan says. “Y-you’re doing better. You’re doing the best you can. You got away instead of lashing out today an-and you gave her space. And let her come to you first. I— You’ve earned the relationship you’re rebuilding. T-trust me.” Evan says it so earnestly that it makes Connor’s heart hurt. 

He thinks back to when they first became friends. When Evan would panic and lie over the most random little things and avoid any and all confrontation. When Connor would clam up and bottle his emotions, turning into an empty canvas until he violently exploded. When they tried to build a friendship out of a misunderstood letter. 

Neither of them had been good at friendship. 

No lies, they had promised each other. They promised that to each other when things got shitty and began to spiral in a danger vortex. No more lying. Honesty when it came to feelings. Boundaries and established rules. No saying ‘we need to talk’, no long silences without some sort of explanation that says that they need to be left alone for a little while, no pushing. 

They catch themselves sometimes. Connor will leave Evan’s messages on read when he’s in a bad place, just to respond to them in a slight panic a few hours later with an apology. Evan lies on impulse and will say he’s fine when he’s clearly not and then text Connor in the middle of a breakdown. 

It’s messy, but they’re working on it. 

Connor is working on a lot in his life right now. 

“I trust you,” he says softly. 

Evan smiles. 

No lies, they had said. But they never said no secrets.

* * *

 

Connor stays the night, because it’s easier. They do a little bit of homework because they pretend to be responsible sometimes. Connor edits Evan’s english paper and Evan explains kinematics to Connor again as Connor groans loudly. They eat the rest of the Chinese takeout and watch some weird French animated movie about a boy with a clock for a heart. Evan cries at the end and Connor just stares at the screen in shock for a few minutes before he grabs the remote and puts on Parks and Recreation. They fall asleep on the couch, curled up around each other because Connor is tall and gangly and his legs don’t exactly fit. 

Connor wakes up with Evan’s head on his chest and decides he’d be okay if he never moved ever again. 

When Evan wakes up, Connor eats Frosted Flakes directly from the box while Evan eats part of a bagel. They put something random on the TV for background noise as Connor doodles and Evan writes a letter. 

It’s nice.

* * *

 

Connor still feels strangely at peace when he gets back home. He presses a kiss to his mom’s cheek before going back to his room. He dumps his bag on his bed and tosses his hoodie on the chair again. He plugs his phone into a charger, because he’d left it here by accident. Luckily, he has one at Evan’s that he forgot at some point and never brought back. He does a pretty bad job of keeping his phone charged, but Evan will usually plug it in whenever he sees it just to be safe. He likes to know that Connor’s got a charge form of communication on him. Connor tosses his shoes into his closet and puts his sketchbook away in his desk. 

Zoe is still practicing. 

A random idea enters Connor’s mind. 

He stands in the center of his room for a few minutes, debating with himself before he says fuck it and goes to knock on Zoe’s door. 

“What?” she snaps, yanking the door open. Her hair is down, but she’s still in the same pajamas she was wearing yesterday and she looks more tired than before. If she had taken a break like Connor told her to, it didn’t do much. 

Connor takes a deep breath. “Could you like…maybe teach me to play guitar?” 

Zoe stares at him. 

Shit. 

“I— I kind of miss violin but it’s hard as  _ fuck _ and I probably sound like a dying cat or something and you’re really good at guitar so…” 

“I…” Zoe tugs on her hair. 

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to,” Connor says quickly. “I was just— It was just an idea? I know you have your own shit to do so I’ll just—” 

“I might not be a good teacher,” Zoe interrupts, “but…I can try. If you…really want to?” She looks up at him, eyes wide. Eyes tired and kind of confused. 

Connor sighs and smiles. “Yeah. I do.”   

**Author's Note:**

> so obviously i blow things RIDICULOUSLY out of proportion, because in the show all it says is that zoe is in jazz band. personally i think in jazz band she plays an electric or jazz guitar (those are what are usually used my brother's in jazz band so i checked) but also plays saxophone in traditional concert band. i have another story that i started one day about her and evan (plot twist) in band so hmu if you're interested in that! 
> 
> my zoe instrument headcanons (that yes show up in other fics): saxophone, electric and acoustic guitar, a tiny bit of bass guitar, piano, some ukulele, and a tiiiny bit of violin connor taught her
> 
> (also sidenote: i do not play sax? i literally googled 'saxophone audition pieces' and chose a random one so like. i dont know whats happening. just note me and my flute in the corner crying over runs thanks)
> 
> [this is my main deh blog](http://heavenansen.tumblr.com) and [is my murphy siblings ask blog](http://askmurphysiblings.tumblr.com)!


End file.
